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Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns
Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns
Author: Mystical Pen

SHATTERED TRUST

Author: Mystical Pen
last update Last Updated: 2025-10-30 18:29:05

Sienna’s POV

I stared at the clock again. 10:00 p.m.

 Still no sign of Gabriel.

The television hummed softly in the background, but I wasn’t watching. The anchor’s voice blurred into white noise as I sat on the couch, one leg tucked under me, staring into nothing. He’d said he was “buried in work lately.” But how much work could possibly keep a man away every night for weeks?

  I sighed, rubbing my temples. The faint aroma of roasted chicken and wine drifted from the dining table—my hopeless attempt at celebrating tonight. Our fifth wedding anniversary and my birthday.

Both forgotten.

The candles I’d lit hours ago had melted into shapeless wax, and the food had gone cold.

 I’d tried to believe he’d remember. That maybe he’d walk through the door with a bouquet of lilies, pretending it had slipped his mind. But the truth pressed harder the longer I sat there.

 He wasn’t coming home for me.

I remembered those days in college. He used to send me gifts that matched my age each year, and for my final birthday, he made it unforgettable. I loved him with everything in me. He was intelligent and driven, but things didn’t go as planned after college. In secret, I asked my father for money and poured all my resources into helping him. He was surprised by how much I had, but I lied and told him I’d won a lottery.

He used to call me his peace, his anchor. Now, I wasn’t even a priority. And maybe that was my punishment. Five years of marriage, and I still hadn’t been able to give him a child.

We’d adopted Aria, a sweet four-year-old who called me “mom” in a way that melted my heart. Gabriel said he was fine with it, that she was ours.

The sound of the TV pulled me back. A familiar name made my stomach twist.

 “Business tycoon CEO Gabriel Vale was spotted leaving the Grand Haven Hotel tonight with award-winning actress Elena Torres…”

My head snapped up.

There he was.

My husband.

 Handsome as ever in his black suit, one arm casually looped around the waist of a woman I’d only ever seen on magazine covers. She was radiant, her smile blinding under the camera flashes. And Gabriel—my Gabriel—was smiling too.

 Not the polite, public smile I was used to.

  But the kind that said he wanted to be there.

  A hollow ache spread through my chest. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to shatter the silence that pressed in around me.

  My phone chimed. It was a message from Sylvia, my best friend.

 Can I call?

 “Yeah,” I typed quickly, my fingers shaking.

 Seconds later, her familiar face appeared on the screen.

  “Happy birthday, bitch!” She shouted, her grin wide and bright.

  “You already told me that at midnight,” I said softly, forcing a smile.

 “I know, but it’s still your birthday, and I refuse to let your moody husband ruin it.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait… what channel was that on? Tell me you didn’t see it.”

  “I did,” I murmured.

 She sighed, her playful tone fading. “Sienna, I’m sorry. He’s playing a dangerous game. I told you billionaires don’t cheat; they invest in heartbreak.”

 I managed a weak laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”

  “That’s why you love me.”

Sylvia had been my best friend since college; she was practically my sister. She had a successful fashion business. I had believed in her since college, and I always knew she would make it. So when she asked for help, I did not hesitate. I gave her the money to fund it.

  “He hasn’t even wished me a happy birthday,” I admitted, my voice trembling.

  “Then screw him. I promise you, he will pay. Happy birthday, gorgeous. Now go grab a glass of wine and stop waiting for a man who doesn’t deserve your silence.”

 “Don’t do anything, Sylvia,” I said quickly. “Please.” “Fine. Just promise me you won’t sit there crying all night. Go to bed, babe.”

  “I’ll try.”

  The garage door creaked open. My pulse quickened. I stood, wiping my face with shaky hands.

  The front door clicked, and then he was there, Gabriel Vale, every inch the powerful man the world saw: tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a black suit that fit like sin. His jaw was sharp, his expression unreadable.

  He didn’t look like a man caught in a scandal. He looked… indifferent.

  “How could you, Gabriel?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

  He paused mid-step, one brow arching. “How could I what?”

 “You forgot my birthday,” I said, my voice trembling. “Our anniversary.”

  He scoffed, tossing his keys onto the console. “I didn’t have time for childish celebrations. I was working."

  “Working?” I choked out a bitter laugh. “Is that what you call being spotted at a hotel with Elena Torres?”

  His eyes darkened. “It was a business meeting, Sienna. Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

  “Business meetings don’t involve holding her waist,” I snapped.

  He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re being irrational again. Maybe if you focused on yourself instead of stalking tabloids, you’d stop humiliating both of us.”

My lips parted in shock. “Humiliating you? I’m your wife.”

 He brushed past me, his shoulder hitting mine, the faint scent of whiskey clinging to him. “Don’t wake Aria with your drama. Her room’s beside ours.”

 “Drama,” I repeated, my voice breaking. “That’s what you call my pain?”

He didn’t answer. He walked into the bedroom, his movements calm and detached, as if our life together wasn’t burning to ashes around us.

I followed him, my bare feet cold against the marble floor. “Gabriel, look at me,” I demanded.

He ignored me, unbuttoning his shirt with slow precision. “I’ve had a long day,” he muttered. “I’m not doing this tonight.”

 Then he picked up a towel and disappeared into the bathroom.

 The sound of running water filled the room.

 For a long moment, I just stood there. My heart pounded in my ears, my hands shaking so badly I had to clutch the edge of the bed to stay upright.

Then my gaze landed on his discarded trousers lying on the floor. Something inside me shifted—quiet, cold, deliberate.

 I picked them up. My fingers searched through the pockets, trembling, desperate for proof I prayed I wouldn’t find.

But I did.

 A silver foil packet.

Condoms. 

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  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Stuck In The Middle

    Sienna’s POVMy phone buzzed again in my hand.Kingsley’s name glowed on the screen, the three typing dots disappearing, replaced by a message.Desmond isn’t in UK. He’s in Italy.I stared at the words like they might rearrange themselves into something that made sense.Italy?My breath stuttered. That wasn’t just a weekend trip or a convenient excuse. That was distance. Planning. Secrecy.I looked up sharply at Gabriel, who was watching my face a little too closely, like he was reading reactions instead of expressions.“You okay?” he asked, concern slipping into his voice.“No,” I said honestly, my pulse pounding in my ears.My fingers moved before my brain caught up, typing back to Kingsley.Italy? Since when?The reply came almost immediately.Two days ago. He didn’t want it getting out yet.Didn’t want it getting out.The words echoed, stacking on top of the unease already coiled tight in my chest. Desmond didn’t disappear without a reason. And he definitely didn’t let me believe

  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Curiosity Piqued

    Sienna’s POVThe waiter hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m really sorry, ma’am. I was instructed not to disclose their identity.”“That’s not how restaurants work,” I said quietly, though my pulse had begun to race. “Someone doesn’t just pay for my lunch and vanish into mystery.”He offered a sympathetic smile. “They insisted.”I exhaled slowly, steadying myself. Drawing attention wouldn’t help. Still, unease crawled up my spine as I gathered my purse.“Wait,” he said quickly, lowering his voice. “There’s… something else.”My fingers tightened around the strap. “What kind of something else?”He glanced around once more before reaching into his apron and pulling out a slim cream-colored envelope. No logo. No name. Just my first name written across the front in careful, deliberate handwriting.Sienna.My heart skipped.“They asked me to give this to you after you finished eating,” he explained. “They were very clear about that.”“Did you see them?” I asked.He shook his head. “They

  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Bills Cleared

    Sienna’s POVThe fashion house smelled like clean linen, espresso, and quiet ambition.It always grounded me.I stepped out of the elevator into controlled chaos—designers bent over tables, assistants gliding between racks with tablets pressed to their chests, the low murmur of fabric being discussed like it was alive. Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the space with late-morning light, turning silk and satin into liquid gold.“Good morning, Mrs. Hale,” my receptionist said, already standing.“Sienna,” I corrected gently, as always. Titles made distance. I needed none of that here.She smiled. “Your office is ready.”I nodded and walked in, slipping into the version of myself that didn’t crack under unanswered calls. The CEO. The woman who signed contracts without shaking hands. The woman who knew how to command a room without raising her voice.I set my bag down, shrugged out of my coat, and stared at the city beyond the glass. Somewhere out there, my husband was either exactly where

  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Business Trip

    Sienna’s POVMornings in our house were always loud.Not the chaotic kind—no shouting, no slammed doors—but the soft, busy noise of life moving forward whether you were ready or not. The hum of the kettle in the kitchen. The rustle of school uniforms. Milo’s constant tapping of his feet against the floor like he was powered by something invisible. Max humming off-key while trying to shove one sock into another. Maya standing perfectly still, arms lifted like a little queen waiting to be dressed.I fastened the last button on Maya’s cardigan, smoothing the fabric down her tiny shoulders. “There,” I said softly. “All done.”She frowned at her reflection in the hallway mirror, then turned to me, dark eyes too observant for someone her age. “Daddy didn’t help today.”My fingers stilled.Milo snorted from the couch. “Daddy never helps in the morning.”“That’s not true,” I said automatically, though my voice lacked conviction. “Daddy helps when he can.”Maya tilted her head, curls bouncing.

  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Invitation to the Club

    Desmond’s POVMy phone rang again before I could convince myself to calm down.I really didn’t want to answer but I answered anyway.“Yes?” I said.“Where are you?” my father asked.His voice was even, unhurried—like he wasn’t calling to disrupt my entire night.“At the house,” I replied. “You told me to stay.”“And I still mean that,” he said. “But not in that room.”I straightened. “What does that mean?”“It means,” he continued calmly, “that I need you to come meet me.”I frowned. “Meet you where?”“A club.”The word sat wrong with me instantly.“A club?” I repeated. “You don’t do clubs.”A faint pause. Not hesitation—calculation.“I do,” he said, “when something important needs to be discussed.”My grip tightened around the phone. “Important how?”“You ask too many questions,” he replied mildly.“That’s because you never give answers.”Another pause. Longer this time.“This is not a conversation to have over the phone,” he said. “Come to the club.”I exhaled slowly. “You summoned

  • Goodbye, Mr. Wrong: The Heiress Returns   Crept In

    Desmond’s POVI left the room the same way I’d entered it—quietly, carefully, like the walls themselves might remember me if I wasn’t cautious enough.The door clicked shut behind me, soft but final. My pulse didn’t slow. If anything, it grew louder, thudding in my ears as I walked back down the corridor. The house was still silent, but now it felt different—watchful. As though it knew I had crossed a line.I didn’t go back to the guest room. I couldn’t sit still. My hands were trembling, my thoughts spiraling, every image from those photographs replaying behind my eyes.My father’s smile.That man’s face.The resemblance that refused to be coincidence.I reached the far end of the hallway and leaned against the wall, dragging in a slow breath. Whatever he wanted to “show” me… it wasn’t going to be simple. It never was with him. Nothing was ever just what it seemed.My phone vibrated in my hand, startling me.Sebastian.I stared at his name for a moment before answering.“Hey,” I said

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